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On pages herein you will see 

My tribute to my ancestry. 

That this will live and of worth he, 

I inscribe, To Posterity! 




Louts V. ^urrell 



t3be 
;Qetal8 of tbe [l^ose 

POEMS AND EPIGRAMS 
by 



LOUIS V. BURRELL. 

It 



Price, $1.25. 



Morton, Del. Co., 
Pennsylvania. 






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C^ti 



Copyrighted 1917 by 

LOUIS V. BURRELL. 

Morton, Pa. 



APR -4 1917 



C! A 4 s; i 5 3 



PREFACE. 

This little book contains many messages 
to any number of people, but to my enemies 
(they know who they are), those who could 
see no pood in me, those ones who have 
slandered me, lied about and tried to pull 
me down, those ones who have tried to kill 
me financially, socially, mentally, physically 
and spiritually, the message I quote to them 
from the Holy Bible: "He amonp' ye with- 
out sin cast the first stone;" "It is not 
what was I doing yesterday — it is, what am 
I doing today;" "A tree is known by the 
fruit it bears;" "Better a millstone be tied 
around your neck and cast into the sea than 
harm a hair of the head of the least of one 
of these my little ones;" "God is our refuge 
and our strength." 

To those dear, kind friends, some who 
have aided me so often, and in so many 
ways, those who kept faith in me (you know 



who you are), it will convey a message to 
you that I was worthy of your aid, and 
sincerely thank you accordingly. You have 
a grand heritage with God. You will find 
in Matthew, 25th chapter, 33rd to 40th 
verse, words to that effect. 

If any thought, word or deed expressed 
in this book is the means of renewing the 
courage of one of the readers thereof, and 
causes that one, when seemingly overcome 
in the battle with this world and sunk in 
despair, to take heart and try again, I have 
not lived in vain. 

And if any one, low in the mire of sin, 
can find anything contained in these lines 
herein written that will cause him to strug- 
gle out of the mire into the path, narrow 
and steep, that leads to eternal life, then 
am I content, for I have done something 
for that Saviour who has done so very, very 
much for me. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

The Petals of the Rose 11 

Introduction 11 

My Excuse . . 12 

Always 12 

Tomorrow 13 

The Victor 13 

The Mantle of Dunbar 14 

Aching Heart 15 

The Harbor 16 

Shuckin' Corn 17 

Why 18 

The Old Year 18 

Examine the Acorn 18 

Dear One 19 

If I Could 20 

A Wish 20 

My Plea 21 

That Little Old VHlage Called Home 27 



Page 

Enchantment 28 

Deeds 28 

The Nesrro 29 

To Be Happy 33 

Qualification 33 

To Mamie 34 

A Friend 35 

Warnino' 35 

Why Yah an' Mandy Sing 36 

The ComJng of Love 38 

The Seasons 39 

Heed 40 

Day and Night 41 

Will You? 43 

De Bes' Cook in De Lan* 44 

My Life 45 

Remember 46 

Trouble 46 

He Who Succeeds 47 

Ras' Johnson's Fust Prayeh 48 

My Determination ^1 

While Time Lasts ^^ 

Morton ^^ 

Roses and Thorns ^^ 



THE PETALS 

OF 

THE ROSE 

POEMS AND EPIGRAMS 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 11 

THE PETALS OF THE ROSE. 

The petals of the rose, white, yellow, pink 
or red, 
Are rich with sweetest scent, 
A fragrance so refin'd, 'tis loved by those 
well-bred, 
The aroma's never spent. 
The petals of the rose, as I before have said. 

Are sweet, I love to dwell 

On perfume rich and rare, e'en when the 

rose is dead, 

So that I fain would tell 

In poetry, not prose. 

Of petals of the rose. 

INTRODUCTION. 

I am the ground where the rose bush does 

thrive. 
The bush, worthy friend, you can help keep 

alive ; 
The Publishers are the wall where the rose- 
bush does cling. 
Without them to help we could not do a 

thing. 
The backs are the branches, the book is the 

rose, 
The pages are the leaves of the rose-bush that 

grows. 
And as you turn the pages and petals they 

fall, 
You receive the sweet fragrance of rose 

petals all. 



12 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

MY EXCUSE. 

I have just begun my singing, 

My songs are not always sweet, 
And just why they lack this harmony 

I will tell if you are discreet. 

When I was quite young, my parents 

With patience taught me to try 
To recount an occurrence truthful, 

Without the least form of a lie. 

That's why I seem egotistic, 

That's why sometime I seem mad. 

That's why I sing with a smile and tear, 
And sing of the good and the bad. 

I have just begun my singing, 
My songs are not always sweet, 

For I've never yet been taught to lie, 
So my training is incomplete. 

I try to sing all my ballads. 

In the spirit of my youth, 
But if one of my songs displeases you, 

Then, my friend, you must blame the truth. 



ALWAYS 

Peace is sweetest after pain. 
Sunshine brightest after rain, 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 13 

TOMORROW 

Because of my trials and temptations, 
I have sinned and transgressed the law, 

That God in His all-wise creation 
Made perfect without the least flaw. 

Because of my sins and transgression 
Against the wise law of my God, 

I'm held by the hand of oppression, 
And my spirit beat to the sod. 

Because of my sickness and sorrow. 
Because of my deep grief and pain, 

My God in His own time tomorrow, 
Will not let me suffer again. 

Because my temptations immersed me, 
I most failed, but Fve done my best, 

The Master in His tender mercy 
Will grive me an eternal rest. 



THE VICTOR 



It is good if you have naught to tell 

Of never having had a fall. 
It is better, though you fought and fell, 

Than never to have fought at all. 
And best if after you have fallen. 

Have fallen, though you fought so well. 
You rise again at trumpet's call, then 

Snatch victory from the mouth of hell. 



14 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

THE MANTLE OF DUNBAR 

The mantle which Dunbar let fall as his soul 

took flight 
Through the shadowy gloom of a long winter's 

night, 
To the beautiful land of eternal delight, 
Has fallen upon me to make my life bright. 

Therefore I sing with the voice of the lark in 

the day. 
Or the notes of the nightingale when night 

holds sway. 
And though most times I'm happy, I'm not 

always gay. 
For they who would dance have the piper to 

pay. 

I 
There is not always sunshine and there's not 

always rain. 
But ever after one comes the other again. 
Life is not always peaceful, there's always 

some pain. 
There are none here quite pure, we all have 

some stain. 

VvTierever there is wisdom there is always a 

clown. 
Wherever there is laughter there you'll find a 

frown. 
And they who would win joy and heavens 

jeweled crown, 
Must often in sorrow on earth be cast down. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 15 

So that's why if this mantle of Dunbar's I 

would wear, 
Along with his singing I must, too, have his 

tear, 
While the disease that was his with grim 

death quite near, 
Also comes with the mantle, but death I don't 

fear. 

And though I may have his genius, I have 

even so 
All his trials, and his troubles, his pain, and 

his woe. 
But they shall not o'ercome me, not me, I say 

no; 
For God lives within me, I sound the echo. 



ACHING HEART 

My heart is sorely aching 
And full of grief and pain, 

My spirit, it is breaking. 
For I have loved in vain. 

Our love it has been sundered, 
Our lives now drift apart. 

Our spirits must have blundered, 
Therefore my aching heart. 

In days gone by the sunshine 
Of love like threads of gold. 

Though woven round me spun fine 
Kept love from growing cold. 



16 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

But clouds obscured my vision, 

My sun of love is dim, 
Is this, then, my excision? 

The sky is dark and grim. 

Shadow like dusky twilight. 
Obscures my path through life, 

And blurs my once keen eyesight 
That kept me clear of strife. 

The days now know no pleasure 
For me my sad lips moan. 

And love, earth's greatest treasure, 
Has from my presence flown. 

Must I through life see storm clouds, 
And see the lightning flash? 

Must I see daylight, form shrouds. 
And hear the thunder crash? 

Yes, I must live in sorrow 
And see and hear the rain. 

But yet I know tomorrow 
The sun will shine again. 



THE HARBOR 



Life is the river on which we float 
Like cast-off mariners in a leaking boat, 
Twixt the shore of birth now so remote 
And of death so close we cannot help note. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 17 

SHUCKIN' CAWN 

Wen de leabs is ole an' yelleh 
An' de summeh is long gawn, 

Wen yah wispeh an' yah tells heh 
Is yah both is shuckin' cawn. 

Yah tells Malinneh yoah heh f elleh, 

Jes is shuah is yah is bawn, 
Dere is no time dats so melleh 

Lak w'en both is shuckin' cawn. 

In de mawnin' bright an' eahly, 

An' de chilly fros' an' snoh, 
Is ablowin' white an' peahly 

In de sometime open doh. 

An' yoah layin' by de fieh 

Feelin' glad dat it is dawn, 
Feh yah wants teh be right by heh, 

In de f eil's ashuckin' cawn. 

Now de time comes feh yoah dinneh. 
An' yah feels dat yah could eat 

Chittlens, chicken, shuah a winneh, 
An' 'Possum skin brown an' sweet. 

But yah gibs all teh Malinneh 
Feh yoah ha't wit lobe is tawn. 

An' yah stan's dere lak a sinneh 
Kin of lonesome shuckin' cawn. 



18 The Petals of the Rose Poems, 

Comes de twilight of de eben 
An' de win is blowin' cole, 

Now yah knows yah mus' be leabin* 
Feh de day is growin' ole. 

An' yah lak teh set by fieh 

In a room dats tight an' wawm 

No yah know yah is a lieh, 

Yah would rader shuck de cawn. 



WHY? 

Many ride post-haste for the doctor 

But walk very slowly back, 
While others hastily enter graveyards 

And never return, alack. 

Moral — One can easily lose one's health but 
it is a hard matter to recover it. And one can 
die quickly, but none can return. 



THE OLD YEAR 



Through leafless trees the wind is sighing, 
On frozen ground the snow is lying, 
While father time is swiftly flying 
I think I hear Dame Nature crying 
"Uncover all, the Old Year's dying!" 



EXAMINE THE ACORN 

Do not expect a massive oak tree, 
If the acorn you planted was rotten. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 19 

DEAR ONE 

Dear one must we part forever? 

Will no love balm soothe our pain ? 
Must we, all the old ties sever? 

Can we not be friends again ? 

From the days of careless childhood, 

Into our more mature years, 
Picking flowers in the wild wood, 

Sometime maybe dropping tears. 

Memories of you always lingers 
Like the taste of rare old wine, 

And I long to hold your fingers 
As I did upon the time. 

When we rambled in the meadow 

And a meadow lark, unseen. 
Piped his even chant, you said low, 

On me through life you would lean. 

Sweet those days which we were living 

Happy in the vale of love. 
Ever to the other giving 

Things that came from God above. 

But the gloom of sorrow clouded 
And obscured the sun's bright ray 

So our life of love was shrouded 
In a cold and sombre gray. 



20 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

But those clouds soon will be breaking, 
And the sun will shine again, 

Then we'll find that clouds were making 
Love much brighter after rain. 

Dear one, we'll not part, no never, 
Our true love will ease all pain. 

And we'll be together ever 

'Till death sings the last refrain. 



IF I COULD 



I would strew your path with flowers, 
I would send the sun each day 

For to brighten up dark places 
As you go upon your way. 

If I only had the power, 
I would drive away all care. 

But Jesus he is watching 
And will shield you through the year. 



A WISH 

My birthday wish to you, my dear. 
Is that all through the coming year, 

Your eyes will never know a tear, 
Caused by pain or dark despair ; 

But ever on your face you'll wear 
A happy smile that's free from care, 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 21 
MY PLEA 

Apropos to him who has past 

To realms where life does ever last, 

Of him who raised the mystic mask 
Which death has always held so fast. 

I speak of Dunbar to be brief, 
Who was our race's Poet Chief, 

I say to friends, assuage your grief, 
It is my hope and my belief. 

Though egotistic I may be. 

Can I not become great like he? 

I answer and this is my plea, 
I can if you will just help me. 

Can I not become great as he. 
Who has done very much for we. 

Children of slaves, those slaves set free 
By Lincoln's words of liberty. 

I think of those who never saw 

Or never knew the equal law, 
But died in chains, their backs beat raw! 

It makes me shudder now with awe. 

I fain would tell tales with my pen, 
And cast o'er slaves a glory, when 

I through pen make the world know then 
Our martyred women, martyred men. 



22 The Petals of the Rose Poems 

Can I not become great as he? 

I have his sense of poetry, 
His tears, and, yes — his poverty ; 

But yet his glory I don't see ! 

I have his sickness and his pain, 

His trials, and sorrows, and his stain, 

I have his hopes, and pray for gain. 
And fear my hopes may be in vain. 

I have the hatred, this I know 

Of those that tried to keep him low ; 

I have his troubles and his woe, 
And wonder is it always so. 

Like him I've strived almost since born, 
I've struggled hard, my health is worn ; 

My body's bruised, my heart is torn, 
And I am sad, almost forlorn. 

Disease which brought death to his door 
Is stealing o'er me more and more ; 

And I am weakened to the core, 

All my bones ache, my lungs are sore. 

Tuberculosis, hf e may end. 

So may God to me quickly send, 

As to him, one to prove a friend. 
To help me on my upward trend. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 23 



Like him, I have a haunting fear 
I cannot be much longer here ; 

The spectre of disease does leer 
And every trouble seems to jeer. 

So much at me, they make me sigh 
And start the tears out from the eye, 

Tm fearful lest maybe I die 
And have to bid my work goodby. 

Though thus far I have death defied, 

My miseries are multiplied. 
Sorrows stalk to me side by side. 

My life to wreck, its joys to hide. 

On me like on him, drink has placed 
Curst hands, and fingers interlaced 

In mine, drink has my powers braced. 
For a moment — reaction chased. 

The help I thought was so much good, 
And drink, revealed, a foeman stood ; 

While I in drink's befuddled mood 

Saw all my good deeds round me strew'd, 

Friends gathered, but their help refused, 
Then strangers came and me accused. 

And foes, me loudly they abused, 
Meanwhile I sat and sadly mused. 



24 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

Sometimes, like him, I choke and bleed, 
My lungs break, and like demons freed, 

The blood spurts out. Oh Master! heed 
My prayer to Thee, to Thee I plead. 

I cannot stand the drain and live 
Without you Master, for to give 

Me blood, mine runs as through a sieve, 
It seems my very bones are rive ! 

Give me. Lord, these things that I ask, 
Help me, and lighten. Lord, my task. 

No other has thy power vast. 
And on Thee, I myself now cast. 

Paul's mother was his angel dear. 
And he, her jew'l without compare, 

She never thought that he was queer, 
But cared for him for many a year. 

My mother reached God's crystal streams 
Long years ago, but yet it seems 

Her love surrounds me in bright beams 
When she comes to me in my dreams. 

God gave me friends, a sister, too ; 

Who helped me in my struggle through 
This world where nothing's ever new, 

But best, God gave a wife so true. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 25 

That when pain pierces like a knife, 
Or times when I am tired of strife, 

When I almost despair of life, 

My help from God comes through that 
wife. 

I cannot glorify her now, 

But yet I feel that men somehow 

Will understand, doff hats, and bow, 
And one and all you will allow 

That when a sickly sonnetteer 

Has wife who all his burdens share, 

A brighter crown than he, she'll wear, 
In God's own city over there. 

Yet so many things come to mar 

My life, I suffer more by far 
Than ever did our friend Dunbar, 

I cry aloud with voice ajar, 

"The cross is more than I can bear," 

^.1 Life! be good. Oh, Christ! be near;" 
Now if God heareth me my prayer, 
And you and your friends really care. 

ril try once more and yet again, 
Try, using pen and nerve and brain, 

Try, every muscle tense with strain. 
Try for success and to attain. 



26 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

A higher standing for the race 
That we may fill our rightful place, 

With greater pride we then can trace 
The blood of Negroes in our face. 

If you will help me in my climb, 
I, too, will reach the heights sublime, 

And gain the place that should be mine. 
And will be, in the Master's time. 

Then can I lift some others up 
And pass them the elusive cup 

Of success — ^they can also sup. 
What matters if it be abrupt. 

Oft times I rant, sometimes I rave. 
When for the better things I crave, 

I am no longer just a slave! 

And rising higher from the grave. 

Of envy, spite and malice, too. 
That held me, and also held you 

Like Pharaoh's legions held the Jew, 
But may we have no cause to rue. 

That we are tardy in our pace, 

And now I hope that with God's grace 

You will help our wrongs to efface. 
Not just for me but for the race. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 27 

THAT LITTLE OLD VILLAGE CALLED 

HOME. 
You may laud if you wish some great city 

Till your voice reaches the azure dome, 
But there's no place however so pretty 

As that little old village call'd home. 

All the streets there by large trees are shaded, 
And the houses seem breathing welcome 

To those ones who are tired or jaded, 
In that little old village call'd home. 

You may search as I did countries foreign, 
I went through like finest toothed comb, 

But there was nothing that I e*en saw then 
Like that little old village calFd home. 

Though the grass and the flowers grow wild 
there, 

And in winter winds roar like a bomb, 
There is really no place that is so dear 

As that little old village call'd home. 

I have traveled all over creation. 

From far Cape Town to distant Cape Nome, 
But there's no place could give me elation 

Like that little old village caird home. 

In summer, streets are dusty and sunbak'd. 
In winter, frozen hard, and lonesome, 

But give me even though it is mud-cak'd. 
Just that little old village caird home. 



28 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

Though I see many cities of grandeur, 

And their bread streets quite often I roam, 

There are none that I've seen that I stand for 
Like that little old village call'd home. 

And I've seen splendid sights (don't refute 
me) 

As I saird o'er the vast ocean's foam, 
Yet nothing that had just the same beauty 

As that little old village call'd home. 

Could I there only sit this bright ev'ing. 
With my wife, not myself like a mome, 

Then my heart would no longer be grieving 
For that little old village call'd home. 

You may happy be, while you can travel 
And tread some strange, rich, far-distant 
loam. 

But with joy I will walk on the gravel 
Of that little old village call'd home. 



ENCHANTMENT 
Dere ain't no ha'm in lovin' 

If yoah love libes far away, 
De ha'm comes w'en yah see each other 

Neahly ev'ey day. 



DEEDS 
Good deeds are never done in vain. 
Bad deeds will never bring one gain. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems 29 

THE NEGRO 

Created by God's own masterstroke, 

You see him, the primitive man, 
The positive force, unknown to slavery's yoke, 

Leader of all races for a span 
Of years, then for disobedience damn'd, 
And in his progress made to stand; 
He was by other races then enslaved. 
With every man's hand against him raised. 



See him in Egypt, the mightiest power of all 

the world, 
Vast wealth was his, in battle his banner 

remained unfurled ; 
Greece, Rome and others came to him to be 

taught 
To learn to work in precious metals as he 

wrought. 
For his was the brightest mind, the most 

advanced thought. 
But though the fairer ones came to him to 

learn. 
The Negro's darker color they did spurn. 
Then with bitter jealousy and rage 

At the wisdom he displayed 
All nations with him a great war did wage. 
And won, for all races against black was 

arrayed ! 
They conquered him, then with wanton 

cruelty 



30 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

Lay in waste his once rich and fertile country, 
Burned, raped and pillaged, down to the very 
sea. 



Seasons change and many years now pass. 
Bringing their sorrows and sufferings, and, 

alas, 
When next he's found deeper in Af ric's torrid 
clime. 
Oh, look, is not this fell ; 
From heights of civilization once upon a time, 

He's fallen to the very gates of hell ; 
Savage, a clod of darkest clay, 

A child of nature, wild, uncouth ; 
Glories are gone, history of his past life swept 
away. 
Gone are the heritages of his youth ; 
Pomp and splendor gone and no desire to 

roamj 
He's found in Africa another home. 



Then fairer skin, he of the north. 

Stole Black, and Black from Africa came 

forth. 
Came from his home afaraway. 
To toil for White, both night and day, 
Without a comfort, without a say, 
Like human brute, he got no pay. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 31 

God gave him passions, soul and mind, 

And made him human, and lo, we find 

Him Hke cattle, herded to be sold. 

'*0h, nations look; behold! behold!'' 

Yes, look ye nations, look now and see 

What manner of man is this who once bent 

the knee 
And bared his faithful, suffering back, 
To torture equal to the rack ; 
Who struggled through his slavery, 
From that cruel hand of tyranny, 
And never did give up the fight, 
For he was fighting for his right. 
From early morn 'till late at night 
Against a tyrant in his might. 
Held back by tyrant slavery's hand 

Urged on by subtle inner force ; 
Atremble at the sharp command 

That bid him on to bear his cross. 
It seemed that he must die, he could not keep 

the pace 
But fate, who was not reckoned with, kept 

black in the race. 
And all those years while he was bound. 

And years that he's been free, 
'Twas, and is now Fate's solemn sound 

Of On ! On ! On ! It is to be. 
And using past splendors and pain, for his 
goad. 



32 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

He never lightens the greatest load, 

But pointing to present circumstance, 

He hastens on the Black's advance. 

And Black, with shining courage splendid as 

the sun, 
Though suffering great, strives on, and on to 

run, 
He sees beyond the toil and pain ; 

He sees, the awful road ahead ! 
He knows he has to win to gain, 

To lose — his very cause is dead. 
So he still struggles with the rest. 

Seeing the race course entire length, 
Ever and anon coming abreast 

Of a runner and forging ahead with mighty 
strength ; 
Strength the world never even guessed 
Nor had an idea he possessed ; 
Oh, see the glorious deeds he's done, 
See him all his rivals stun. 
Flashing by them one by one. 
Skilled labor, and the Arts, and Craft, 
All professions and the Sciences are passed ; 
He's gaining on the leaders fast. 
Spite, envy, malice and prejudice 

Must at length yield, 
After using every artifice 

Must leave Black master of the field. 

* * >}< 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 33 



Saw ye him yesterday, bound in chains, bowed 
in sorrow, 
Almost no hope, the future dark and dire? 
See him today, with lofty aim and great 
desire ; 
Then see Ethiop. with arms outstretched to- 
morrow, 
A power filled with the creative fire. 



TO BE HAPPY 

Think kindly thoughts, 
Speak gentle words. 
Do goodly deeds. 



QUALIFICATION 

If you haven't got the strength to lift a heavy 

weight, 
Just mingle with the weak ones until your 

strength gets great. 
But if you have the strength to lift any weight 

at all 
Lift and keep lifting it no matter if it's small, 
Then when strong men are wanted you can 

answer to the call, 
You, too, can lift a heavy weight and will not 

let it fall. 



34 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 
TO MAMIE 

My dearest Mame 

You brown skin belle, 
I only came 

My love to tell, 
For crinkl'd hair 

And eyes of jet. 
That with your tear 

I'm thinking yet. 

Yes, and your smile 

And dimpled cheek, 
I love them while 

My heart is meek ; 
Oh, jew'l so rare, 

Withal so fine. 
None can compare 

From any mine. 

I cannot find, 

Though hard I seek, 
Words of a kind 

My love to speak. 
Oh, flower sweet 

Thou art divine, 
'Tis you I greet 

And for you pine. 

(From Greeland's ic'd 
Mountain peaks, and 
India's spic'd 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 35 

Warm coral strand) 
Tve traverd, saw, 

Maids young and fair 
Without a flaw, 

But none I care. 

As for you, brown 

Sweet Mamie, dear, 
I am cast down. 

But you can cheer 
That what is now 

A barren heart, 
And make somehow 

A garden start. 



A FRIEND 



The friend in deed 
Comes in time of our need. 

Today in our sickness and sorrow 
'Tis not he, who others' call will heed 
And to our bier, then, will speed 

With flowers — perhaps — tomorrow. 



WARNING 



If you go bathing and cannot swim. 

Don't go out of your depth when you venture 

in 
Unless there are others round about. 
Then if you sink they can fish you out. 



36 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 
WHY YAH AN MANDY SING 

On a cole an' cloudless night 

Wit' de moon ashinin' bright, 
An' de gol'en stahs atwinklin' true de trees ; 

All de groun' is cover'd quite, 

Wit a mantle spaklin' white. 
An' de win' it is so cole yah think yah'U freeze. 

Is yah go from fieh light. 

It shuah is a gran' gran' sight. 

Though de cole it makes yah trimble in yah 
knees, 
Now it seems dat jes feh spite, 
Dat de houn's begin teh fight. 
Is yah lose dem up from weh dey lay it ease, 
Underneath de ole house tight; 
But eve'y thing ends allright 
Feh dey ketch de smell of 'possum on de 
breeze, 
B'er 'Possum is soon in flight. 
An' yah yell wit' all yoah might, 
W'ile de houn's run roun' about an' sniff and 
sneeze. 

Once again de houn's all try, 

By asmellin' low an' high. 
An' now it las' de possum's smell dey fin' ; 

Is de houn's go rushin' by. 

Yah kant help a sudden sigh, 
Feh it somehow paints a picsure in yoah min\ 

(How yah dady had teh lie. 

Wit' de teah draps in his eye, 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 37 

A hidin* in de canebrake among de pine, 

An' though he was hidin' nigh, 

Wit de iioun's all in full cry, 
God saved him by de undergroun' railroad 
line). 

But my how de time do fly, 

An' B'er 'Possum young but sly, 
Wile alayin' in de treetop lak his kin' ; 

Is shot it las' an' he die 

An' yah think of 'Possum pie. 
Is yah tote him home teh be cooked mos' de- 
vine. 

Home it las' an' Mandy's got 

Young B'er 'Possum in de pot. 
Wit' de sweeten tatehs layin' all aroun' ; 

An' he tickels de right spot 

When yah eat him pipin' hot 
Wit' de gravey drippin' slippin' sweet an' 
brown. 

Dere is cawn bread look lak gole, 

An' dere's cabbage bless yah soul, 
Dat has jes been lately taken from de groun'; 

Mandy someweh we've been tole 

Ain't not now so ve'y ole, 
An' de bes' cook dat kin anyweh be foun' 

Cook's a feas' fit feh a king, 

An' yoah ha'ts lak joybells ring, 
Is yah set dere an' de good things jes eat 
down. 

Den is yah an' Mandy cling 

To each other is yah sing 
After eatin', yoah de happiest two in town. 



38 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

THE COMING OF LOVE 

The soft, zephyr-like breeze 

Mingling gently round about, 

Like the tender touch of 

Loving and caressing fingers. 

And rustling the palms where the tropical 

moonlight, 
Lent a sparkling white radiance to the night. 
Glinting through leaves and branches, 
Shining down upon palm fronds 
And the many plants and flowers, 
Glittering like diamonds or other precious 

stones. 
On nature in this warm southern clime ; 
Here under the blue canopy of heaven, 
With the stars twinkling like a myriad of 

small candles, 
Here among the Palmettos, 
While a thrush piped his evening chant 
In the witch elms overhead. 
I beheld her face as beautiful as a goddess. 
Eyes glorious with the deep lustre of creative 

power. 
Breath as sweet and refreshing as the balmy 

spice 
Laden autumnal winds of India's coral strand ; 
Here in this mystical phantom-like fairyland. 
As I gazed into her eyes. 
With her head nestling on my breast. 
Swiftly and silently as the wings 
Which bring the morning, 
And as welcome as the sunshine in winter, 
Came love. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 39 



THE SEASONS 

Now the morning's chill one often, 
While the days are cool and gray 

And the Autumn's twilight soften 
All too soon the light of day. 

Drawing fast the darker shading 

Of an ebon tinted night, 
Slowly, oh, so slowly fading 

To another gray day's light. 

But at length the Autumn sickens 
And then passes into death, 

While the pulse of Winter quickens 
And he draws his first faint breath, 

He chills nature with his cold touch 
Living things soon freeze and die, 

Neither season demands so much 
As King Winter passing by. 

'Tis a lesson God is giving 
As the year is growing old. 

Spring is youth, and we are living, 
Winter, we are dead and cold. 

Comes a day he, too, is leaving. 
Though he seems so loath to go, 

To the earth he still is cleaving, 
For he leaves us with a snow. 



40 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

At length soft spring winds are blowing 
Laden with a sweet perfume. 

Fruit and flowers are now growing 
Nature with life is abloom. 

And Spring goes on into Summer, 

Summer merges into Fall, 
FaU then dies, and then the mummer 

Winter comes, I've told it all. 



HEED 

The moments are speeding 
With time you are needing 
To complete your labors on earth without 
stain. 
You'd better be heeding 
Your inner man's pleading 
And don't let your life be lived on earth in 
vain. 

But pay what you borrow 

And put by your sorrow 
And your spirit with peace shall be inured to 
pain, 

Then death without horror 

Shall sometime tomorrow 
Escort you to Heaven where you'll live again. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems 41 
DAY AND NIGHT 

Grand and wonderous is the dawning 
Of the first dim streaks of day, 

When the sun is robed in scarlet, 
Or is clothed in crimson gay. 

Heaven's vault is stained with colors, 

Green and golden, purple, too, 
Painted by the master artist 

In a variegated hue. 

Bright and beauteous is the daylight 
When the sun shines soft and clear. 

On the fields in the midwinter. 
Clad in white afar and near. 

How the snow it gleams and glistens 
Like the field of "Cloth of Gold," 

As though cover'd with rare diamonds 
More than Af ric's mines can hold. 

And in summer sunlight warmly 
Covers fields so sweet and green, 

Dew drops sparkling in the greensward 
Tell us fields are fresh and clean. 

But the day is swiftly passing. 

She must answer at the call. 
Is day grieving she is leaving 

As the shades of evening fall ? 



42 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

No, she knows the Master's pleasure, 
Knows He doeth all things right. 

So with twilight comes the shadows 
Of a long dark winter's night. 

If perchance it may be summer 
Night comes to us just the same, 

Though the summer day is longer . 
Night slips in like a good dame. 

Sleep, the gift to tired nature, 
Comes to us when world is dark. 

Soothing, strengthening, and reviving, 
Once again the vital spark. 

Morpheus, goddess of the slumber, 
Ope* thy arms and let me creep 

Close upon thy restful bosom. 
For I know I much would sleep. 

Sleep, the mask of oblivion. 
Sleep, the banisher of pain. 

Sleep, we're dead yet are we living, 
Come I court thee once again. 

Morpheus, bring thy subtle potion, 
Your lips to mine gently place. 

Bring thy boon to tired mankind. 
For I fain would thee embrace. 



The Petals of the Rose Poema. 43 

WILL YOU? 

When death almost has placed his icy fingers 
on my brow, 
And life has ope'd his mouth to softly say 
adieu, adieu, 
My thoughts will be of you as ever this I vow 
And I wonder will you think of me, will 
you? 

When death has, oh, so tightly elapsed the 
hands that once you clasped ! 
The hands that toiled for you though weak, 
and weakly sinned, 'tis true, 
And life at last broke for all time his warmer 
grasp, 
I wonder will you clasp these cold hands! 
WiU you? 

When death has kissed these lips you kissed, 
that always shall be thine ! 
These lips once red with life, but in death 
silent, cold and blue. 
And life has fled and left these mortal bones 
of mine, 
I wonder will you kiss these blue lips ! Will 
you? 



44 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 
DE BES' COOK IN DE LAN' 

Golly do yah know my Mandy? 

She's a cook dats in deman', 
Bakin' pies an' makin' candy, 

She kin sutin beat de ban', 
Bilin' cabbage, makin' cawn bread 

Well, she shuah is jes de han', 
An' de ole Missus alwes sed 

She's de bes' cook in de Ian'. 

Have yah eveh smelt de loven' 

'Possum wit gra\y all 'roun', 
Is she takes him from de oven 

So hot, juicy, an' light brown, 
An' de sweeten taters layin' 

'Roun de 'possum in de pan, 
Is yah ter yoahse'f is say in'. 

She's de bes' cook in de Ian' ! 

Have yeh eveh eat sow belly, 
Er eat of de chicken meat. 
Have yah eat of home-made jelly 

An' of biled ham good an' sweet? 
It would make yah hit Mars Andy, 
Feh it's somethin' yah kant stan', 
An' yah know dat yoah gal Mandy, 
Is de bes' cook in de Ian'. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems 45 

MY LIFE 

A pinch of all that's beautiful, 
A hand full of all that's dross. 

Yet I kick not against the pricks, 
For I know that is my cross. 

A little bit of loving, a great deal of hate, 
A great deal that is crooked, and a little that 
is straight. 

A little bit of shining, a great deal of rust, 
A great deal of envy, and a little bit of trust. 

A little bit of pleasure, a great deal of pain, 
A little bit of sunshine, and a great deal of 
rain. 

A great deal of sorrow, a little bit of joy, 
A mixture of all of these, just so that none 
will cloy. 

A little bit of laughter, a long, long cry, 
A little bit of smiling, and a long-drawn sigh. 

A little bit of kindness, that will help me if I 

try, 
And cause my face to smile again, my tears 

again to dry. 



46 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

A great deal of poverty, a little bit of wealth, 
A great deal of sickness, and a little bit of 
health. 

A little bit of peacefulness, a great deal of 

strife, 
An unequal division of everything, and that's 

my life. 



REMEMBER 



Iron heated is more easily bent. 
Cloth that is rotten is easily rent. 

One quick to anger their passion's soon spent. 
Though death blows, by such ones are quickly 
sent. 

Some people do evil with good intent, 
And others do good when evil they meant. 



TROUBLE 

Never weep over troubles or you will never 

smile. 
But laugh and troubles will not be such an 

awful trial. 
For by laughing at troubles, troubles you will 

beguile, 
And leave all your troubles behind you a mile. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 47 



HE WHO SUCCEEDS 

Success is for him who has sunk so low, 
That cursed by friend and beat down by foe, 
And caught by the current's strong under-tow 
To be almost scorched by hell's hot glow, 
But taught by this process long, cruel and 

slow, 
At last will learn and after learning know 
That a man will reap what e'er he may sow. 

After sowing sorrow and reaping tears, 
After planting traps and gathering snares. 
After dropping troubles and digging cares, 
And harvesting vices for many long years. 
He stops himself short in his wild career. 
And turns right about to bear and forbear. 

To fight hard against the dark waters flow 
That would drag him down where the lost 

souls go, 
To fight bruised and bleeding and blow for 

blow. 
Each victory will make him stronger grow, 
And more intrepid or more hard to throw. 
Thus at last from the scarlet sin and woe 
He emerges successful, white as snow. 

Where before he reaped nothing but weeds, 
Or at best a small bunch of willow reeds. 
He now has a harvest of golden deeds, 
And this is success and he who succeeds. 
Success is not measured by man's demand. 
But weighed in the balance by God's hand. 



48 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

RAS. JOHNSON'S FUST PRAYEH 

Ras' Johnson did not go teh chuch 

Neh lead a liges life, 
His days was full of bickering. 

His nights chuck full of strife. 

He neveh tended Sunday School, 
He neveh learned a prayeh, 

If Satan would of come f eh him. 
He'd f oun' Ras' mighty neah. 

Teh pick a quaF seemed teh be 
Ras' Johnson's chief delight. 

He'd ratheh pick a qual dan 
Pick chickens any night. 

An' Ras' shuah was some fightin* man. 
He was not built f eh speed, 

But lak a supeh dreadnought built. 
Burly, black and, knock kneed. 

An' lak a mighty dreadnought's guns. 
Words from his mouth would roah, 

So cha'ged wit blazes is he fought. 
His battle's soon weh o'eh. 

Yes, eve'y one who Rastus fought 
Would lose an' git beat up, 

While he would go 'roun' growlin' lak 
A great big mangy pup. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 49 



But one day Rastus fell in lobe 
Wit Cindy Suggs an' darn 

If Rastus dident marry heh, 
Though she had done no harm. 

She was a lile brown skin thing 

An' had a chicken ha't; 
She tried teh teach Rastus teh pray 

Feh she was good an' sma't. 

But Ras' he would not learn teh pray, 
An' teh make matters wuss, 

His fightin' blood begin teh bile, 
An' he begin teh cuss. 

He nex' slaps Cindy in de face, 

An' Cindy reaches down 
Quick, grabs de pokah off de stove. 

An' done dat boy up brown. 

She tok dat i'on pokeh an' 
She cracked him in de shin, 

An' w'en he tried teh grab his laig 
She kick'd him in de win'. 

Den is he was bent double why 

She hit him on de haid, 
De pokeh could not stan' dat blow 

An' pooh Ras' mos' drapped daid. 



50 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

She gouged dat pokeh in his eye, 
She raked him down de eah, 

She bounced it twice upon his nose, 
Lil Cindy was a beah. 

Dat pokeh broke out several teeth, 

An' uppeh cut his chin, 
An' w'en agin it banged his dome. 

He had no chance to win. 

She bent dat pokeh on his haid. 

It sutin was a sin, 
Feh den she straightened it right nice 

Upon his haid agin. 

An' Rastus de supeh dreadnought. 
Not built feh speed but fight. 

Ran lak an ocean greyhoun' 
An' soon was out of sight. 

An' is he run croweds heard him say 

''I's runnin' feh my Ufe, 
Feh de Lord's sake please don' stop me. 

But Lord ! please stop my wife." 

Now dat is how tough Rastus come 

A deacon in de chuch. 
While Cindy Suggs with watchful eye 

Kept him upon his puch. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 51 



MY DETERMINATION 

Among foothills I slowly walked, 

The shadows were intense, 
A gloom pervaded that was caused. 

By mountain peaks immense. 

My conscience questioned, why should I 

Abide on lower ground ? 
So damp, and dreary, and so cold, 
With darkness all around. 

While others basked on mountain's top 

And frohcked in the sun, 
Why should I forlorn stay below? 

Oh, Life! What had I done? 

This was the question that I asked 

Unto the inner men, 
The answer came, desire to rise. 

Then if you strive you can. 

I then said, gloom I'd leave behind. 

Where others went Yd go, 
I, too, would reach the eminence. 

E'en though my step was slow. 

If they had reached the topmost peak 
Which seemed to touch the sky. 

Then that should also be my goal, 
I'd reach there, too, or die. 



K 



2 The Petals of the Rose Poems, 



'Twas thus that I began my climb 
From low ground, and to mount 

A little higher every day, 

And make each moment count. 

My heart was heavy at the start, 
My view of life was wrong, 

But viewpoint changed as I went up. 
My eyes once weak, grew strong. 

My face once sad and lined with care, 

Smiled as I went along, 
And lo, what mystery was this? 

My heart burst into song. 

And so I scaled the mountain's side. 
Though rugged and quite steep. 

Sometime I'd leap with muscles tense 
O'er chasms wide and deep. 

At each side sometimes towered cliffs. 
And freezing winds would blow 

Upon me in this rough defile. 
With flint-like cutting snow. 

And thus my upward path was hard. 
Quite covered with sharp stones. 

Some places scarcely wide enough. 
And strewn with dead men's bones. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 53 

The stones that bruised and pierced my feet, 

Now bother me no more, 
My journey now almost is done. 

My struggle almost o'er. 

And dead men's bones that once did strew, 

Sometime my rugged road, 
Are far behind, they stopped me not, 

But served me as a goad. 

Although not quite above the clouds. 

The gloom I now defy, 
For shadows that foreboding were. 

Are far beneath my eye. 

I know some day, I, too shall stand 

On mountain's utmost top, 
(Though lesser heights I do not spurn) 

There only, will I stop. 

The course o'er which I've come, I'll see 

With ever-bated breath, 
And when the pinnacle I've reached, 

I'll die a victor's death. 



WHILE TIME LASTS 

While onward rolls the wheel of time. 
My mind would be sweetly sublime, 
Could I but know until the end 
You'll always prove to be my friend. 



54 The Petals of the Rose Poems. 

MORTON AND RUTLEDGE 

Good folks of Morton and Rutledge, to you 
I pay this tribute, for grand things you do. 
Morton and Rutledge, your climate like gold, 
Is valued by all — sick, well, young or old. 
If sick and discouraged, your life grown sad, 
Morton or Rutledge will make your heart glai 
Sun shining brightly most all the day long, 
Birds trilling so sweetly, song after song. 
At night silvery moon sheds over aU, 
A mystic silver sheen close like a shawl. 
Here winter's cool, yet mild, with little sleet. 
And snow falls just enough to suit the wheat. 
WTiile in the summer the rain gently drops, 
Just what is needed to help grow the crops. 
Come to this blissful clime, blest from above. 
And live a happy life with those you love. 
Rest in this garden spot no more to roam, 
Your dwelling place will be a sweet, sweet 

home. 
Our women, you wiU find them passing fair, 
With kindness and grace quite beyond com- 
pare. 
And men so valorous, half's ne'er been told. 
Debonair, honest, and like knight, so bold. 
People of both towns with hearts large and 

warm, 
Try to shield strangers, like dear ones, from 
harm. 



The Petals of the Rose Poems. 55 

Yes, though you wander far, year after year, 
Naught better will you find than we have here. 
For folks of these two towns, colored or white, 
Have loyal hearts, always striving for right. 
In one of these f avor'd towns I would stay 
(For both are Eden's) until Judgment day. 



ROSES AND THORNS. 

The roses bloom on bush in spring, 

Their sweet perfume permeates the air, 

The thorns exudes no fragrance. 
But at all times you'll find thorns there. 



Finis. 



